


The Mansion On The Hill

by Katzedecimal



Category: DCU - Comicverse, The Flash (Comics)
Genre: Creepy, Haunted Houses, Horror, M/M, kind of, pre-NU52
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-01
Updated: 2014-10-04
Packaged: 2018-02-07 02:06:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 6,247
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1881012
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Katzedecimal/pseuds/Katzedecimal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There are cops and zombies and Black Lanterns and White Lanterns and the Rogues go to the last place anyone would think to look for them. </p><p>That was a mistake.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> With thanks to Seftimiu for the original development. Set in the pre-NU52 old DC Universe, after Rogues' Revenge and sometime during the Brightest Day event. Around then. Time is squooshy in the DCU.

"Okay, that place is really creepy." 

Len had to agree. The run-down manor house was hidden behind a windbreak of trees and scrub bushes, with windows that seemed like eyes. 

"It's like it's watching me," the kid continued, "It doesn't matter where I go, it's staring at me." Len nodded. He too had the feeling that the house was watching warily as he approached with the other Rogues. 

"It doesn't look very safe for a safe house," Mark added, "Are you certain about this, Cold?"

"I'm certain," Captain Cold nodded, "The Rathaway mansion's been abandoned for years and Piper's in jail. Even so, with our history, no one'll think to look for us here." He drew his gun then cautiously approached the house. The door was unlocked. He eased it open and peered in. It was dark and the dusk was quickly fading from the sky. 

"The air feels really weird in here," Mick commented as he eased in beside Cold.

"It feels electrically saturated," Mark agreed, "Wouldn't take much to set a charge off."

"There's a lot of rats."

"I don't like this place."

"Shut it, Trickster."

Without warning, something whirred past Axel's head and smashed against the wall behind him. "Wh-what the hell was that?"

"Glass," McCulloch said, "Cold, there's a **lot** of rats here."

Mick nodded, "I'm getting a bad feeling."

"And wot th' **hell** is that sound?"

"It's a generator," Mark replied, "It's-*" Len prided himself on being the only one who didn't jump out of his skin when a massive spark leaped in the darkness and arced into the shadows. "It's supplying those Tesla coils. Len, this place is occupied!"

"Hell," Len muttered and pulled out a flash light. The house was crawling with rats but showed clear signs of recent habitation. Half-built equipment stood scattered about the room and a piano dominated the dining area, with a Death's-head harp standing in the corner. Then the flute music that he hadn't been aware of suddenly stopped. He turned.

"You've got a lot of nerve coming here," the Pied Piper said. 

"I thought you were in jail," Captain Cold snapped.

"You thought wrong," Piper said. He'd stretched himself out on the chesterfield and the rats swarmed up into his arms.

"Ye turned yourself for accessory to murder."

"I was cleared," Piper said simply.

"You said this was a safe house," the kid told Captain Cold urgently.

" **My** safe house," Piper replied. A plasma box near the front of the room suddenly let out a high hiss, startling the Rogues. Piper looked at it and cocked his head. "What," he said, as though he had heard something. The box scribbled again, so high and so faint, the Rogues weren't sure they were actually hearing it but Piper appeared to be listening. Finally he shrugged, "Alright. I guess you can stay."

And he smiled.

* * * *

That smile should have been their cue to beat it, Mick would say later. It was so dreamy and disturbing. **Piper** was dreamy and disturbing. Nothing seemed to touch him, not even McCulloch's insults. It all seemed to roll right off of him. He just smiled that delicate little smile and chuckled as he turned away. 

"I'm telling you, Cold, that guy's gone completely mental!" Axel hissed. 

Mark nodded, "He was always a bit off but not like this. The way he looks at you, with those eyes.. It's like hippy eyes, all marshmallows and peace signs!"

"And rats," McCulloch shuddered, "He talks to 'em. He talks to himself, too."

" **You** talk to yourself, Evan."

"Only when I'm thinkin'," Mirror Master protested, "An' not like **he's** doing."

"He's been to Hell and back," Mick said gently, "Literally: Word on the street is, he went to Apokalips."

Mark sucked in his breath, "Didn't Boomer talk about that place?"

Mick nodded, "He got taken there, once. Fought his way back. That's when he changed."

"Hm." They turned at the sound of Captain Cold's voice. "If Piper went there, we'd better tread carefully. That means you, too, McCulloch. And Trickster? - no tricks."

A glass shot off the shelf and shattered on the wall beside them. They stared at it. 

"That..."

"How did **that** happen?"

"Cold," the kid did his best to steady his voice, "I don't like it here."

"You wanna go outside, face the cops and zombies, go ahead." Cold's eyes scanned the others as they remembered why they needed a safe house in the first place. "We're staying."


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Turns out the Pied Piper isn't the creepiest thing in the old Rathaway Manor.

It started late one night. They'd managed to have a quiet evening of pizza, pretzels and beer, watching the World Cup because Evan insisted. They argued and Evan vehemently corrected anyone who called it soccer ("It's **football** , th' whole world calls it football.") Piper remained quiet in the corner, plucking his harp while the rats crawled over him. Then they had gone to bed. 

Mark snapped awake. He lay still for a moment, wondering what had woken him. Then he heard it. "Josh?" he called quietly, "Is that you?" He strained his ears, listening, then heard it again -- the faint, distant sound of a child's laughter. "Josh?" he called again. _Josh is dead. Inertia killed him._ He sat up and swung his legs out of the bed. 

_"Daaaaaad-dyyyyyy!"_

Mark shivered. The faint, faint voice sounded just like Josh. He got out of bed and stepped out of the room. _That can't be him. Josh is dead._ "Josh? Daddy's coming, Josh, where are you?" He heard the sound of a baby laughing and turned to follow it. 

When they found him later, at the bottom of the stairs, he would swear that he was pushed by a pair of tiny hands. 

The next night, it was Axel who heard the voices. It sounded like children playing. He threw back the covers and stared suspiciously at the door jamb as shadows moved under the door. The sound of running feet went past and he got out of bed. He cracked the door open and looked out, "Hello?"

The hallway was empty. Then he heard a thump and turned in time to see a small red rubber ball bounce down the attic steps and down the hall. "Hello?" he called softly. The ceiling creaked and thumped with a sound like footsteps and he swore he could hear a giggle. "Is somebody up there?"

_ "Come play with me!" _

Axel shivered. Still staring in the direction of the attic steps, he yelped when something arced out of the darkness of the hallway behind him and hit him in the back. It was the ball. 

He darted back into his room for his flash light and shone it down the hall. There was nobody there. 

_"Aaaaaa-xellllll! Come play with me!"_

Axel felt his scalp crawling. _There's nothing there,_ he told himself, hyperventilating, _Just an old ball. Probably the wind. Yeah that's it. There's probably an open window up there._ He nerved himself. All of his gut instincts were telling him to leave but he was the Trickster, he was a Rogue, and Rogues didn't run (except from cops and homicidal zombies, then it was okay.) He started up the stairs. 

_"Aaaaaa-xelllll! come play with me!"_ He swallowed hard but kept climbing. _"come play patty-cake!"_

He froze. Cautiously, he poked his head up into the attic. "What do you know about patty-cake?" he asked, pitching his voice low to keep it from shaking. There was no answer but at the far end of the attic, he thought he could see movement. He climbed up fully into the room. "Hello?" Then felt himself spun about and slammed against the wall. 

His screams woke the others. They found that he'd been pinned to the wall by more than four dozen steak knives outlining his body. When they confronted Piper, the other man simply shrugged and said, "He wanted to play with you." But he wouldn't say who, or why. 

* * * *

"There's no such thing as ghosts," Captain Cold said firmly. 

The other Rogues stared at him, incredulous. "You're tellin' me," Evan began, "That after everything that's happened, you still don't believe this place is haunted?"

"Nnnope."

"After what happened to Mark?"

"Mark had a bad dream, that's all. He was sleepwalking."

"An' th'kid?"

"Probably one of his pranks to get attention."

"It was **not** 'one of my pranks,'" Axel said hotly. 

"And me? You gonna call me a liar? I _heard_ that music box, Len."

"Mick," Len said, trying to sound kindly, "You're nearly forty-one now. Your hearing isn't what it used to be. It was probably tinnitus."

"Right and why'd you put your fist through the bathroom mirror?" Mick asked.

Len shifted, uncomfortably aware of his bandaged hand. "I was startled. I thought it was McCulloch," he lied.

"Not bloody likely. I'm nae the poof!"

"Cold, there's definitely something weird going on here," Mick said.

"Ow! Ow, Jesus _fuck!_ "

"What is it now, McCulloch?"

"It's me side, me chest! Me **back!** " The Scotsman peeled his shirt up and the other Rogues gasped. "Bloody hell! What the bloody hell is causing that?!"

The Rogues stared in shock as deep scratches welted up, opened and bled right before their eyes. "I think someone does not like you calling our host names," Mick murmured.

"Probably the rats," said Captain Cold.

The others looked at him coolly. The room was currently empty of rats. "Rats, huh?" Mark said, "Is it rats who are causing the sixth shadow?"

"Huh?" 

"There are five of us here and there are six shadows." 

They turned. "Fucking hell, it's like a Vashta Nerada," Axel whispered.

"A who?" Evan rolled his eyes at Len's display of cultural Luddism. "It's probably just Piper. _**Piper!**_ "

There was no answer. "Piper's over in the kitchen, Len," Mick said, "On the other side of the house."

* * * *

"You didn't have to do thaa-aaa-t," Piper drawled in an amused murmur. He sliced the chicken into pieces and pushed them into the frypan. Beside him, a plasma speaker whispered, making the rats hop about and giggle. "Hmmm... Well, alright, I suppose, since you put it that way. But you have to come up with some better jokes." A tiny screech emanated from the speaker and Piper chuckled, "Because they're **lame** , that's why. You had all that time and you only came up with one original joke." 

"Piper," Mick said in his gentlest voice, "Who are you talking to?"

Piper chuckled blissfully. He inhaled then opened his eyes and smiled at Mick, "Who wants to know?"

"We're a little worried about you, Piper."

"Don't be."

Mick's eyes followed Piper's hands as they stirred the contents of the frypan, staying fixed on the lurid ring of knotted scar tissue around his right wrist. "Weird things have been going on around here, Piper."

"I know."

"I don't mean the zombies, Piper, I mean _here,_ in this house."

"My parents were murdered in this house," Piper said, his tone light and conversational, "My baby sister died here."

Mick stared at him for long minutes. "Are you saying this place is haunted?" Piper scraped a platterful of sliced asparagus into the frypan and sprinkled it all with sherry. "Piper? When did you learn to cook? You were worse than I was. You set _salad_ on fire."

"He talks me through it."

"Who? Who does, Piper? Who talks you through it?" Piper started chopping some herbs. "Is it your father?" Mick said softly, "Piper? Are you trying to talk to your parents? Is that why there's all these voltage generators? Are you trying to give them energy so you can contact them?"

Piper looked out the window. "There's a storm brewing. Should be a big one." He inhaled and exhaled in a blissful sigh.

And he would say no more. Mick tried to get him to talk but Piper would say nothing further. He simply handed Mick plates of sauteed chicken and vegetables for the others. "Thanks," Mick sighed, giving up. He found Mark, Evan and the kid in a group, looking like a clutch of scared chickens. "What?"

"Dude," Axel hissed urgently, "The whole time you were talking to him, there was this shadow of a guy standing _right beside him._ "


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There was a storm that night. Thunder roared, wind moaned and the air, already electrically saturated by the Tesla coils, became tangibly greasy with the lightning and stank of ozone. The next day, Piper seemed more relaxed and more blissful than ever and the weirdness got even worse.

_ "You're enjoying this." ___

__"And why not?" Piper murmured in reply._ _

___ "You were such a nice guy." _ _ _

__"I was never a nice guy and you know it."_ _

___ "Yeah you were. You got pushed too far sometimes." _ _ _

__"'Maestro of Malevolence', remember?"_ _

___ "Only when you got pushed too far. ..now squeeze the lemon over it and give it a quick stir. and don't give any to the guys, this is just for you." _ _ _

__"I know."_ _

___ "Flash is back, have you heard? Our Flash." _ _ _

__"I heard."_ _

___ "Remember how we used to tease Wally about not being 'the real Flash'?" _ _ _

__"I remember."_ _

___ "Wally's better. Did you hear how he mouthed off to Batman? We should tease his uncle about not being the real Flash now." _ _ _

__"I heard he's a Blue Lantern now."_ _

__There was a pregnant pause. _"So...... What you're saying is, he's a Blue Barry."__ _

__Captain Cold passed by the kitchen, to see Piper doubled over the countertop, laughing hysterically for no readily apparent reason._ _

__* * * *_ _

__Mick heard the music box on the cusp of his hearing. The delicate, tinkly sounds never seemed to get any closer and he never seemed to be facing the right direction. It seemed to be the strongest in his room, though there was no music box there. Thoughtful, he took out his smartphone and set it up to record. "Anybody here?"_ _

__The music box stopped._ _

__Mick concentrated. There, now he could hear his tinnitus and that was definitely **not** the same. "Is this... whatwasyourname... Jerrie? Is that right? Is that your name? Jerrie Rathaway?" Silence. Then... He thought he heard a whisper. "Was this your room, Jerrie?" He let the silence play out again, giving time for answers. "I understand why you might not be too happy about us being here," he said, "Especially Mirror Master. Is that what's upsetting you?"_ _

__"What the hell are you doing, Mick?"_ _

__Mick looked up to see Captain Cold leading against the door. "It's called an EVP session."_ _

__Len curled his lip, "You're trying to talk to the ghosts."_ _

__"Yes," Mick said simply._ _

__"Are they talking back?"_ _

__"Maybe. I won't know for sure until I listen to the playback and that's **if** my phone's microphone is good enough to pick up."_ _

__Len shook his head, "You get anything out of Piper?"_ _

__"In a way. He reminded me that we've brought a murderer into the house of the people he murdered. That might have stirred something up," Mick said dryly._ _

__Len shook his head again, "You sound as mental as the rest of 'em."_ _

__Mick shrugged and turned off his phone. "Why did you break the mirror?"_ _

__Len froze. "I told you."_ _

__"I know when you're lying, Len, your lips move. You didn't see McCulloch. What did you see?"_ _

__"None of your fucking business!" Len snarled and stalked off._ _

__* * * *_ _

__There was a storm that night. Thunder roared, wind moaned and the air, already electrically saturated by the Tesla coils, became tangibly greasy with the lightning and stank of ozone. The next day, Piper seemed more relaxed and more blissful than ever and the weirdness got even worse._ _

___Bunch of idiots,_ Len thought as he walked down the halls, _They're more freaked out here than they were out there with the zombies and the zombies were trying to kill them.__ _

__He turned the corner and down a flight of stairs. He'd found a games room with a billiards table and he chalked up a cue to play a few rounds of solitary snooker._ _

__There was a clown doll with a porcelain face displayed on the book shelf, next to a family portrait of the Rathaways. Len frowned. He wasn't fond of clowns to begin with and old porcelain dolls were creepy no matter what; putting them together was a recipe for madness, in his opinion. He shook his head and leaned down to shoot. He played for a while then leaned up to stretch._ _

__The doll had turned. Now it faced towards the window. Len stared at it for a few moments then went down the hall to the bathroom. When he returned, he went to the doll and turned it back to its original position._ _

__He went back to his game. After a few more breaks, a soft sound caught his attention and he looked up. The doll had slumped forward and turned so that it now peered around the book shelf at him, grinning its sick porcelain grin. _The Joker's grin,_ Len thought. He walked around the pool table and shoved the doll forcefully back into its alcove. He played a few more rounds then left to get a beer. When he came back, he stared. _ _

__The doll was gone. The space beside the family portrait was empty. He looked around and found it sitting on top of a lowboy on the other side of the room. That did it. He snatched the thing up and stormed up the stairs, roaring **"Trickster!"**_ _

__* * * *_ _

__**"Trickster!"** _ _

__Axel looked up from the comic book he was reading. That was the sound of one of his stunts being found out, but-*_ _

__"Ye bloody little gobshite, I ought to fuckin' kill yer for this!" McCulloch stormed into the den where Axel had holed up._ _

__Axel frowned, "For what?"_ _

__"For _this!_ " McCulloch held out a sock monkey, banging away with its cymbals, "How'd you rig it up, you little shite?"_ _

__**"Trickster!"** Their heads both snapped around as Captain Cold approached. "Think you're funny with those air shoes of yours?"_ _

__"Huh?"_ _

__"I know it's you who's been moving the doll around, Axel."_ _

__"What doll?"_ _

__"This," Len threw the clown doll into the kid's lap. "And McCulloch, turn that damned thing off!"_ _

__"It **is** off," Mirror Master grated, "It won't stop playing."_ _

__"Then take the batteries out." McCulloch wordlessly held out the batteries in his hand. "Hm. The kid must've rigged it somehow."_ _

__"I didn't touch it! I never even seen the thing before!" Axel said hotly._ _

__"ha ha ha ha ha haha ha ha hahaha ha ha ha haha ha ha hahaha ha ha ha haha ha ha ha"_ _

__They stared down at the doll leering from Axel's lap. "Must have put a speaker inside it," Cold said._ _

__"I did **not!** " Axel picked the doll up and squeezed around its body, then shook his head, "There's nothing in here."_ _

__"Sure there is," Len said and snatched the doll up. He pulled out his pocket knife and sliced it open along its back then felt about inside. Then he started pulling the stuffing out, muttering as it revealed nothing but sawdust._ _

__They watched as the doll's head slowly turned around to look at him, laughing the whole time. ** _"FUCKING HELL,"_** Captain Cold roared, smashing the doll against the floor and shattering its porcelain head. Then he drew his gun and shot the sock monkey, freezing its cymbals in ice._ _

__Silence._ _

__"I've been in this room the entire time, Captain Cold," Axel said in a low, steady voice, "Whoever's pulling this shit, it isn't me."_ _

__* * * *_ _

__"Sounds like you're having fun," Piper chuckled. He'd been playing the piano for a while now, the same short stanzas over and over and over._ _

__"Piper! **Piper!** "_ _

__"Captain Cold."_ _

__"What the hell is going on around here? What kinda shit are you pulling?"_ _

__"Meaning?" Piper still hadn't looked up. Cold threw the dolls onto the piano in front of him. Hartley clucked his tongue when he saw the clown's shattered head, "That belonged to my grandfather."_ _

__"It was _laughing._ "_ _

__"Really."_ _

__" _And_ it was moving by itself. It moved from the bookshelf to the lowboy in the games room downstairs and then when I was looking for the speaker, the damned thing's head turned around backwards!"_ _

__Now Piper looked up and his smile was genuinely happy, "Really! That's fantastic!"_ _

__Captain Cold **stared** at him. "And why is that fantastic?"_ _

__"He's gaining power."_ _

__"It's a damned doll, Piper, are you telling me it's Chucky?"_ _

__"No," Piper said lightly._ _

__"Something really weird is going on around here, Piper, and you're acting really strange."_ _

__Piper's fingers shifted into a different tune. Captain Cold scowled as Piper began to sing in a lilting voice, "It's the end of the world as we know it and I feel fine." He got nothing more out of him after that._ _


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Captain Cold is seeing things in the mirror again. Mick gets concerned and Piper gets a kiss.

_The problem with beer is you only rent it for a while,_ Captain Cold thought. He was thinking about other things as well. It was getting more and more difficult for him to debunk the weird happenings around the mansion. Especially the doll. There had been nothing in the doll, only sawdust in the body and an empty porcelain head, yet the thing had laughed and laughed and kept laughing even after its head lay in pieces on the floor. 

This morning Mark kept complaining about cold spots following him around and the feel of someone's cold hand touching him on the shoulder. This afternoon, the sock monkey had started playing its cymbals again so Len had frozen it. And watched as it shattered the ice, and the sound of clanging cymbals and cracking ice had unnerved even him. 

He shook off, flushed and washed his hands. The mirror flickered and he steadfastly ignored it. "Fuck off, McCulloch," he muttered, "For someone who keeps insisting he's not queer, you have a weird fetish for bathroom mirrors." He looked up. And sucked in his breath. 

Not Roscoe this time. Worse. So very much worse.

_Lisa._

He stared at his dead sister's face, smiling back at him from the mirror. They had the same eyes, he noted detachedly. "He's dead," he whispered, "I found him. I killed him. It's done." He wasn't certain why he felt the need to explain to a hallucination in the mirror - or why he felt the need to lie about it. He hadn't been able to bring himself to do it, to kill their father, so he'd ordered Mick to murder the man instead. 

The pretty face in the mirror began to melt and blacken. For a moment, Len thought it was morphing into the rotted corpse face of the zombie Lisa they'd bolted from, which is how they'd ended up here in the first place. But her face kept charring and shifting, the cheekbones broadening, jaw thickening into a face not unlike his own, a face he'd hated and feared. A face he'd last seen burning in the fire of Heat Wave's flame thrower. 

"Stop! Stop it! For fuck's sake, Len, **stop it**! You're going to bring the whole wall down!" Mick and Mark grappled with him, pinning his arms to his sides while Evan wrenched the cold gun out of the bloody pulp that was his fist. "What the hell's gotten into you?"

"Len," Mick's voice was a steady rock and he clung to the sound, "What did you see?"

* * * *

"We'll pay for the damages," Mick was saying. Piper didn't reply. He pulled a few more items down from the cupboard before finding the first aid kit he was looking for and handing it to Mark.

"What are you doing with those Tesla coils, anyways?" Mark asked, a bit suspiciously.

"It's going to storm," Piper replied. 

"Yeah I know. The air's already electrically saturated, why are you adding even more?"

Hartley smiled blissfully. "Maybe I can get a kiss tonight."

He said nothing more. After that, they didn't really want to know.

* * * *

"That was cruel, what you did to Cold," Hartley said. He sat on his bed next to a large speaker, sipping tea and reading a book. The sun had set and a warm fire crackled in the fireplace, taking the edge off the chill that was blowing in with the gathering storm. 

_"After everything he did, you're complaining?"_ the speaker whispered.

Hartley snorted, "Not me. Merely commenting. Sometimes I forget that you hit where it hurt. You never hit at my weak points."

_ "Of course not. I like **you.** " _

Piper chuckled, "You sure have a funny way of showing it."

_"Do I, now. Wait until that storm breaks and I'll make it up to you."_

Piper purred lasciviously, "Mmmm... That's what I'm hoping for."

* * * *

It was a dark and stormy night, which was... really, really cliche but also the truth. Mick sighed, watching the intense lightning. He wondered if it would set any fires tonight. The wind moaned and he shivered. 

At least, he _thought_ it was the wind. It moaned again and this time he wasn't so sure. This time, it sounded almost human. He seldom set foot in this part of the mansion - this was Piper's and he respected that, if no other Rogue did. Piper had been acting weird so everyone had been leaving him alone, but if he was hurt... Well... Maybe he should just make sure the guy hadn't injured himself. 

"Just going to check on Piper," he murmured. Wandering a dilapidated mansion haunted by angry spirits probably wasn't the best idea he'd ever had.

Piper had taken over his parents' old master bedroom suite, which was practically a small apartment. Mick hesitated as he neared the door, left cracked open so that Piper's rats could come and go as they pleased. As he approached, the sounds sounded less like pain and more like... something else. _Ah, well... That's different,_ Mick thought as he turned away. Even a crazy guy has needs... 

And then he heard the second voice. 

_Huh? Who's he got in there with him?_ The voice was whispery and reedy and disturbingly familiar. _Trickster? But it can't be, we saw him with the zombies. He's........ dead........_ Mick swallowed hard and, nerving himself, peeked into the room. 

There was Piper, on the bed, .............. yeah. But the eroticism of the scene was destroyed by the pale mist hovering over him that was rapidly thickening into a translucent form. The reedy voice whispered lascivious encouragement and by now didn't even need the speaker for Mick to be able to hear it. Hartley panted and moaned, murmuring back words of love and loneliness as he ground against what was definitely now the translucent shape of a man. Thunder roared and the shape thickened, acquiring pale colour.

_"Storm's almost at peak, Hartley,"_ the ghost cooed, its translucent hand joining Piper's. 

Hartley shivered at the icy touch and sighed. "Wish it wouldn't," he whispered, "Don't want this to end."

_"Me neither. Come on now. Come... come for me..."_

Then thunder cracked, Hartley arched and the Trickster was _**THERE**_ , solid and real, his weight pressing Hartley into the mattress as they kissed with desperate passion. 

All too soon, he started to fade. They clung to each other for as long as they could as the storm passed overhead. Finally, Hartley's arms fell to his sides, alone. He sighed in bliss. 

Mick turned and ran.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mick rings up Captain Cold on the Clue Phone. Axel faces a tough choice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, I know, James wasn't part of the _Reign in Hell_ event. **But he should have been!**

"We're leaving," Mick blurted. The others looked up and stared at him. Evan, Mark and the kid stared with relief; Captain Cold stared like Mick had grown three heads. Mick stared back. "No arguments. We're going."

"Have you forgotten the zombies?" Len said, "Look, I know it's a little spooky in here but-"

" _It's Jesse._ "

"...What?"

"It's Trickster! The **real** Trickster!"

"He was one of those Black Lanterns, remember? Trickster's dead, Mick."

" **Yes!** Don't you remember what he **was?** Who his **son** was? What he **did**?"

Mirror Master looked puzzled but Mark had gone pale, lips pressed into a thin line. "How can you be so sure?"

" _I **saw** him!_ He manifested when the storm passed over us! **Solid.** I could hear him, I could see him, and Piper could _touch him._ "

"So that's why he's running the Tesla coils," Mark said faintly.

Mick nodded, "To give Trickster power to draw from. Those big speakers? - They're for James. He uses them to talk to Piper. Piper hasn't been talking to himself, he's been talking to _Trickster!_ " He started to pace in agitation, "We got him killed. We fell for Inertia's dupe and we threw them to the wolves, then we framed Piper and claimed he helped us snuff Inertia. Then we had the balls to come here with Evan and Axel. He's been messing with us."

Len forced himself to look unimpressed. "If it _is_ Jesse - and I'm not saying it is - but if it is, he's pulling some pretty piss-poor shit, if this is the best he can do."

"Are you full of shite? Have you seen me chest? That's going to leave scars!"

"He pushed me down the stairs! I could have broken my neck!"

Mick just stared at Cold. Finally he said, "Len, I am ninety-nine percent certain this is _not_ the best he can do. He's just fucking with us, probably because of Piper. Do you _really_ want to find out what he can do? When Piper's been feeding him for God knows how long?"

* * * *

Axel crept along the hallway, following the sound of the music. He was so used to walking on air, now his feet felt almost unnatural walking on the floor. He followed the music to the living room where Piper sat playing the death's head harp. Axel had to admit, it was **the** coolest harp he'd ever seen. He swallowed and threw his airwalker shoes forward, "No fight."

Hartley didn't stop playing as he glanced up briefly. He turned back to the harp and closed his eyes. "You know," he said after a few moments, "Mythologically, the power of the Trickster is passed through theft. Trickster after Trickster has stolen the power from their predecessors. Had you actually stolen the shoes, he might have been alright with it." Axel swallowed again, not sure where this was going. "But you didn't. One of Blacksmith's thugs stole them and she gave them to you. And then you used them to do things that no Trickster would do." Now Piper looked up again, his eyes glowing eerily green, "So why were you so disturbed by what you saw?"

For a moment Axel was puzzled, then he realised Piper meant the Rogues. What he'd seen the Rogues do. "I..... I......" He looked down, unable to say just why it upset him so much. "I don't know," he whispered at last. He pushed the shoes forward, "Tell him... tell him I don't want to play pattycake again."

"Tell him yourself," Piper shrugged, "He's right there."

Axel gulped and looked down - he had a second shadow. "Oh god......" 

Piper reached for the stereo equalizer and adjusted the settings. The hissing from the speakers got louder, then Piper switched on the Tesla coils, charging the air so much that Axel's hair stood up, making him look like a frightened dandelion. "You should be able to hear him, now."

Axel turned towards the second shadow that was abruptly denser and blacker, and swallowed thickly. "Wh...who was your son?"

_"Ever heard of Meshta?"_

Axel shivered; the voice from the speaker was reedy and thin but all too clear. "Y-yeah. Some kind of god, right?"

"God is dead," Piper said, "I killed him."

_"Ever hear of a place called Apokalips? Piper went there. Found the guy who did this to us, called DeSaad, torturer of the gods. Piper blew his head apart with a flute made of car parts."_

"Y.. you killed a god?"

"It was easier than I expected it to be."

"Oh geez...." Axel turned back to the speaker, "So... he killed a god and your son is a god... Heat Wave keeps talking about what you did."

_"I tricked the Devil. Four times."_

"Four?"

_"Four. Ownership of Hell has changed. Neron's dead, there's a new crew in charge now."_

"What happened?"

_"The new guys? They started offering hope to the hopeless. That's never happened before. That goes against everything demons stand for. Where'd they get an idea like that? Who would play a con like that?"_

Axel's skin started to crawl. "You would."

_"Thing is, one of the new guys, he's got this drug he uses on humans. I convinced him to modify it, told him if he cut it with a little of the ol' eternal rock magic, it'd turn Neron and his crew into mortals."_

Piper frowned, "'Eternal rock magic'.. The Rock of Eternity? Oh no...." He groaned and stopped playing for a moment, " **Trickster!** You did that the first time!"

_"Can I help it if demons have short memories?"_

"I don't get it," Axel said.

Piper put his hands to the harp again, "He infused the drug with Captain Marvel's magic."

"Captain Marvel... you mean, Shazam?"

_"The very same. Know what that stands for? What powers make up the name?"_

"Yeah, isn't it something like, Soloman, Hercules, Atlas, Zeus.. Apollo?.."

_"Achilles."_

"Achilles, yeah, the heel guy. And.. and Mercury, right?"

_"Right. Now, who's Mercury?"_

"Messenger of the gods, right?"

_"And what else? .... You can look it up on Wikipedia."_

Axel pulled out his smartphone and opened the browser. "'He is the patron god of financial gain, commerce, eloquence and thus poetry, messages and communication including divination, travelers, boundaries, luck, trickery... and thieves...'" Axel's voice trailed off. "'He is also the guide of souls to the underworld.'"

_"Did you think just any twelve year old kid could build flying shoes with an outdated engineering textbook from the 1950s?"_

"You.... you're...?"

_"Why do you think Neron was so interested in me in the first place?"_

"Oh geez..."

_"It was a **game** , kiddo. That's all it was supposed to be but then the rules started changing. We slid along with it and when we woke up, we realized we were becoming people we didn't want to be. That's what happened to you, isn't it. You woke up."_

"I... yeah... yeah..."

_"You woke up and suddenly they weren't cool or bad-ass anymore, they were monsters."_

"Yeah..."

_"That's why we got out. Staying true to ourselves, not to the street cred."_

"Okay. Yeah. I see that now."

_"Good. 'Cause here's the thing: It isn't a game, either. It's about walking the line. It's about staying awake and staying true to your self, not keeping up with the Joneses. But it also means walking alone."_

Axel was silent for several minutes, thinking about it. He knew what the Trickster was saying. No more Rogues. No more leading gangs. He knew his mythology (sort of) -- He was a social kind of guy, but the Tricksters were never social. "But... You're not alone?"

_"Nope. Always did hit it off with Piper."_ The shadow thickened into a faint outline behind Piper and Piper smiled. 

Axel thought about the things Jesse was saying. He thought about the sorts of things Jesse used to do - stealing stuff and giving it back or leaving it, trolling the capes with a "big bag of loot" filled with trash - and how he used to think it was stupid. It **was** stupid. Maybe it wasn't stupid? He looked up and the shade of the Trickster was right there, smirking at him as the dust passed through.

_"Do you want to be a Rogue? Or a Trickster?"_

Axel turned and walked away, leaving the shoes behind.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mick and Mark talk, James and Hartley kiss, and Axel makes his choice.

"Where's your wand, Mark?"

_"...is.... Is Josh....?"_

_'Who's asking? Weather Wizard? Or his father?'_

_"................ I...... his dad."_

"I don't need it."

_'Josh isn't here.'_

_"Inertia..."_

_'Piper got there first.'_

"I can make another one."

Mick nodded, serene.

"You're creeping Cold out, y'know. And McCulloch. Ever since we left that place."

Mick didn't look up, "I should care why? McCulloch's more scared of the gay than of the ghosts and Cold is just..."

"Cold," Mark agreed. After a few minutes he added, "You keep smiling like that. Ever since we left Piper's place."

Mick barely shrugged. "You know why."

Mark nodded, "It is kind of comforting. Knowing."

"Yup."

_'Josh is safe.'_

_"...Thank you."_

"What is it?"

"It's a prayer wheel. The light from the candle purifies and helps heal your sins."

"You never talk about the stuff you learned at the monastery."

"You never ask."

"You're praying?"

"Giving thanks."

* * * *

The hail drummed and the lightning split the sky but it wasn't only the wind that moaned. "What did you tell him?" Hartley panted, arching into the icy touch. 

_'Only that the kid is safe. Didn't tell him where he was or how you pulled it off.'_

"Good." Icy lips brushed against his own and Hartley sighed. "I don't want them.. ahh.. to figure it out."

_'Keep 'em guessing,'_ the Trickster agreed, _'Nice of him to give you his wand, though.'_

Icy lips brushed against his own as Hartley chuckled, "Well.. Mick said I should have more kisses."

_'Mick's wiser than he looks.'_

"Creeped out the others, though. They think you're doing the incubus thing."

_'Mm, technically I **am.** '_

"You freaked the hell out of McCulloch."

_'Is it my fault that he jumped to conclusions about what I can and would do? Like I'd sully your perfect lips with his meth mouth... Oh!'_

"Huh? What? What is it?" Hartley paused and sat up slightly, listening. The rats chattered.

Thunder grumbled and the air felt slick and had a faint taste. James grinned, just visible. _'Well well,'_ the speaker whispered, _'I guess he's a Trickster after all.'_

"Stole the shoes back, did he?" Hartley groaned as a cold, cold hand dropped down to join his own.

_'Yup.'_

"Let's hope he does a better job with them this time. _Ah...!_ "

_'Mmm.. You feel niiiiiiiiiice.'_

"James...!"

_'Yeah. C'mon, Piper.. Kiss me.... Kiss me....'_


End file.
